February Made Me Shiver
February is the month of lying in wait. Waiting for spring. For spring training. For the winds to subside, the snow to stop, the temperatures to rise.
Waiting for the day we can hang the winter coats up for good, put away the mittens and scarves and waterproof boots.
Waiting for the sun to hover just a little longer, for trees to start sprouting buds, for the road to stop crunching underfoot.
Like it's summer counterpart, August, February seems to be nowhere land, the waiting for a season to die already, sick of all the weather and acroutrements that come with it, eager to turn the calendar page to something better. Something warmer. Something less confining, depressing and bleak.
February is black and white photos. There is no color. It's sharp icicles and frozen hands that never seem to warm up.
February is a bike waiting to be cleaned off and spruced up. It's forlorn, like the image of a toy no one wants to play with anymore.
It's longing to hear the words Play Ball! or to exchange the sleds for bats and gloves and skateboards.
But so, so photogenic.
That photo of the toy horse is really depressing me. I think I'm going to go rescue it from the garbage pile. I guess I still haven't gotten over that childhood belief that even inanimate objects have feelings.